Purposely Polar
by Xennon
Summary: A bunch of my draft fics to I use to try and jump start my will to live and to write. These aren't serious stories, they're just stupid prompts.
1. Chapter 1

"I'm afraid of fire." The figure muttered.

"What?" the girl asked, staring unbelievingly at the man in a firefighting suit that was way too skin tight, showing off his heavily distracting muscles.

"I said I'm afraid of-"

She lifted a hand and placed it in front of his face, effectively stopping him from talking any more than he had.

"I heard you the first time." Trembling with something which was either laughter from her childish side or anger from her rational and professional side, she blurted out, "Why did you want to become a firefighter in the first place then? How did you even get past the entrance exam? Aren't you the senior chief in this place?"

Face turning beet red, he raised a hand to rub the back of his head sheepishly.

"It's just- I've always really liked how firemen got to slide down the poles and I really wanted to do that for a job." He admitted.

Feeling a jab at her lungs, she knelt down on the floor and started laughing uncontrollably without a sound. To others, she realised later, it probably looked like she was having a fit.

Turning even redder at her current disposition he also stated, "The entrance exam was basically just aiming at and shooting spots that looked red or pink with a hose."

Catching her breath for a second, she joked breathlessly, "Which is something I bet you do quite often in your free time with your partner."

Realising what she meant slightly late, he frowned with his red face, which looked quite a lot like the tomato filter on snapchat.

"That's inappropriate and you know that," he chided. "there might be minors reading this."

"To hell with the minors, this fic is properly rated." She assured him with a heaving breath.

Trying to compose herself, she stood up and leant on the pole, which suddenly sent her into another spasm. A thought passed in her mind that if he'd wanted to be on poles for the rest of his life, he could've become a strip dancer or be gay.

Which sent her into another giggle fit.

Taking a deep breath that was supposed to calm her down, she noted that he hadn't answered her final question.

"How did you end up as the chief anyhow?"

"Well, my gay lover who is the Chief of Fire Prevention in the ministry got me this job, actually." He mentioned offhandedly before hearing what he actually said.

Susan Bones lost it by that point. She had to be set on a stretcher to be taken to St. Mungos after a full half an hour of nonstop laughing; while Charlie Weasley was going through quite the embarrassment telling the doctors what happened that caused her to be like this.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco walked in the snowy grounds of muggle London, a thick winter jacket hung loosely around him. He heard the soft crunching of his boots on the freshly fallen snow, and the way that the streetlamps cast a halo of light in certain areas. But there would be no need for the lamps soon, as the light of the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, a mix of pink, purple and blue neutral colors. Not too bright, yet not too dark.

It's been two years since the final battle, but that final fight wasn't the last time lives were taken for the "purity of magic". His infamous aunt Bellatrix was still out there, out for vengeance for her dead master. The Weasley matriarch put up a valiant fight against Voldemort's right hand woman, but though she succeeded in stalling her until the very end, Lestrange still managed to shoot one final curse before she got away.

It was a horrible fate that she received, to be physically dead but still have your wits about you. She was in 's now. Rumor has it that her son, Ronald, spends all his spare time with her, trying to give her a taste of the world she all but left.

Harry Potter was now head of the aurors; and was focusing all efforts into trying to capture the last remaining deatheaters who were out on the run.

The mark he was forced into still hurt him. It's not like he had a choice on the side he wanted to be on. It was either the mark, or a promised torturous death for you and your family. It was sad, really, never having a chance to make choices in life. One more puppet dragged around by other puppets controlled by even more puppets. And if you do cut your strings, you'll never move again.

Deep in thought, Draco walked into a muggle night bar with flickering fluorescent lights and sat down at the bar, ordering the strongest thing they have. The customers at that time have long since thinned out, most have either passed out at home or in an alleyway. He took out a Prophet from this morning despite it being 4:13 am with no wizarding shops open -the oh so fantastic privilege of being a Malfoy- and scanned the latest news, Potter saving muggles from a burning building set on fire by his aunt, weaselette becoming captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Ronald Weasley caught doing muggle drugs, nothing new. Draco sighed and placed his paper on the table to receive his drink from the bartender. The bartender raised his eyebrows at the moving pictures on the prophet but merely turned away to polish a glass and muttered, those pills. Draco sighed and sipped the beverage, absentmindedly surveying his surroundings. Which was when he saw her.

THE her. As he chocked and turned back around away from her hastily, his mind wandered and imagined, what would life had been like if he had made a move on Hermione Granger.

No shit. Hermione Granger, know-it-all, Gryffindor princess, the queen of all house elves and the filthy mudblood he'd been taught to hate. He tried to hate her, but he couldn't. Maybe he tried during his first through third year, but during his fourth, he couldn't deny it any longer. He was utterly infatuated with her. He questioned himself when he let her and her friends hide at the Quidditch World Cup instead of turning the trio in, and hated it when someone else was holding her in his arms at the Yule Ball. When she was taken away and was put at risk during the second task, he had half the mind to sue Dumbledore and whoever dared to put her at risk. He admitted he loved her during his sixth year and broke down because all he was ordered to do was going to go against her. As he lay on the ground bleeding to death after Potter's spell, all he could think about was her.

But he couldn't just barge in, a deatheater like Draco Malfoy, not only does he not deserve her, he'll end up hurting her as well. If he stayed away, if he didn't get attached, maybe he could stop being so in love. She was beyond perfect to him. She deserved a good life, loyal friends and a significant other who will cherish her for all she is. Someone who won't stand to the side and pretend he cant hear her screams as his relative is carving a filthy word into her pure soul.

At the trial, Potter, Weasley and Granger were some of the few who vouched to keep him out of Azkaban, under surveillance. Having the savior and his buddies on his side shocked the entire court, but since their votes was one of the ones that mattered the most. It was determined then that they'd put the trace back onto him for the next five years, to make sure that he doesn't step out of line. It was better than he ever could've wished for, and back then, he burst into grateful tears as soon as he got back to the manor. He was still raised a Malfoy, he couldn't show his emotions freely to the world.

But nowadays he just couldn't stop thinking about her, ever since she and Weasley broke up. Draco had just been hoping for a chance, at redemption, perhaps. It was a selfish dream, but one can always hope.

He turned to stare at her from his seat discreetly, confirming it was her. With her back towards him, Hermione Granger in all of her glory was right there, her habit of running her fingers through her hair and playing tuneless piano keys with her fingers, among many of her other quirks. yup. Hermione Granger was single, and they were in a bar together, mostly sober. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering what remaining courage he had left in his lifetime supply to go over to her. He picked up his paper and walked to her seat, stopping just behind her, she was staring out the window she sat beside, as if deep in thought. Draco took a breath then cleared his throat tapping her shoulder lightly.

Hermione's wand was at his throat in a matter of seconds, and she gestured her wand at the door as if signalling to walk outside. Draco stubbornly shook his head. Hermione raised her fist.

Draco walked outside.

Once they were out, she backed him into an alleyway alongside the bar with a homeless man somewhere farther down covered in newspaper, with her wand still pointed at him. There, under the dim streetlight creating a halo above her head, he could see the after-affects of sleep deprivation, stress-filled days and loneliness. He knew that look cause he had it too. Her gaze was weary, distrusting and unforgiving, and he wished so badly that he could change that. Ron leaving her must've hurt her more than he thought.

"Why are you following me Malfoy?"

"I wasn't, I just came in to get a drink."

"In _muggle_ London. Right."

He suddenly realized how suspicious he sounded. A certain Malfoy with dark connections who are obsessed with purity, roaming the streets of the muggle part of London past midnight, going to the same pub as a publicly renowned muggleborn war heroine. Yes, she had every right to be suspicious.

"Well," He attempted to justify, "I was coming back after a graveyard shift at the ministry, and I decided to take a walk down muggle London for a change, enjoy the sunrise. Can't one enjoy the simple pleasures of life, Ms. Granger?"

He laughed inwardly as she narrowed her eyes, "I still don't believe you Malfoy. I've never been given any reason whatsoever to trust you."

Though what she said was true, it still stung. He couldn't blame her for feeling like this, if the roles were reversed, he'd probably feel the same way she did. Though, truth be told, he would've trusted her with his life and soul at any given moment, but perhaps that was due to her reputation of being kind to those who deserved it. He smiled a genuine smile and joked "You can give me veritaserum if you must, I have no reason to shy away."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at his smile, not used to the foreign expression on what used to be her tormentor's face. She didn't know why, but her heart softened and she believed him. So lowered her wand and replied in a small voice with a hesitant smile of her own, "Perhaps we don't have to go to such extreme extents, I believe you." She looked so beautiful standing there, even after weeks of Weasley leaving her were still etched onto her physique. Her long-since tamed hair that probably once was a neat bun, had gentle ringlets of hair falling out, framing her face. Her golden hazel eyes were being shined upon by both the warm glow of the rising sun and the dim, flickering streetlight. It seemed as if an artist took all of the most beautiful colors in the entire universe and mixed them together; and just then, and only then, would they have captured Hermione's eyes at that moment.

He stepped closer to her, just a small step, and his breath was caught as Hermione stepped closer as well. A sign of acceptance, of willingness to pursue whatever they had further, and suddenly, their fore heads were touching. He tentatively caressed her face with his palm, and her waist with her other had, and seeing as she didn't pull away, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, barely brushing lips but it sent sparks throughout both if their bodies. He pulled away before he drowned in her, and saw confusion in Hermione's eyes.

Maybe the reason that she stayed was because of the pain she was going through, or the sunrise around them that made his face seem even more brooding and lit up hers, or even the imaginary gust of wind that sent goosebumps trailing up their arms.

Or perhaps it was the light in his eyes that was different from the boy that Hermione remembered from school, different and yet the same. She understood that what he went though and what he did were things that he couldn't ever forgive himself for, even though he didn't have a choice. The boy needed someone to forgive him in order for him to start forgiving himself. There they were standing, hearts beating erratically and heavy breaths that came out in foggy clouds.

That is when everything came crashing down to a halt. Hermione realized where she was and who she was with, and in a panic, she disapparated. Draco didn't go after her, perhaps knowing she and him together would never happen, perhaps just frozen in shock from the kiss, perhaps taking it as her hating him and could never love him, or perhaps, it was just because he was afraid. Afraid of what, he wasn't sure, but he didn't want to risk letting her take his heart already shattered heart and breaking it further.

So for whatever reason, he let her go.

 _And you let her go._


	3. Chapter 3

After the the kiss that they shared, Ron and Hermione decided what they had could never work out, and chose to end it there, and stay siblings the way they were before.

Ron felt that he needed someone he didn't know that well, who could be a woman and help him with all household things; while Hermione didn't want a relationship with someone who has the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, who objectified women.

Hermione, therefore spent time looking for the right one. She'd went on dates with over a dozen men (and, admittedly, a lady) in the course of the month after the war. While some of them were handsome, they weren't quite as intellectual. While one was smart, he was also gay. While the woman she found both intellectual, hot, and liked her enough to continue what they had, Hermione felt that perhaps she didn't swing that way.

Ginny married Oliver Wood, Ginny's fiery temper matching the spirit of Oliver's, both being Quidditch fanatics, and both exceptionally good at the Bat Boogey Hex; they were indeed a match made in heaven.

Ron was in a serious relationship with Pansy Parkinson, of all people, and strangely enough, it wasn't half bad. Pansy had gotten over her younger, more arrogant days and they both worked in the Ministry. Parkinson as an Auror, Ron as an Unspeakable.

The last of our happy couples, Neville and Luna got married and took up the Quibbler Newspaper. The popularity of said magazine rose dramatically after the war, and soon benefited from the report that Hannah Abbot, the next Newt Scamander, had produced, declaring that Nargles and Wackspurts were actual things. They also soon had their child whom they named Fei, which meant fly in Mandarin.

Seeing all these happy couples, Hermione desperately wished she would find "the one" and wished so hard, that it came true on her birthday after the war, as she was blowing out the candles.

As soon as the candles went out, Harry, her best friend floo'd over to wish her a happy birthday. But it turned out to be more than that.

After inviting him to stay for a bottle of Bordeaux and cake, he confessed after three sips, that he had realized he loved her at the Yule Ball, and before that even. He just didn't realize it till he saw her taken by someone else.

He knew how to hide it better than Ron. He also knew that Hermione was a girl all those years, and though, he had to try extremely hard not to box Ron in the face when he hurt her feelings, he gave in at times and swung a punch at him.

Hermione was shocked speechless, she watched as Harry bent down on one knee and took out a box with the most beautiful ring in existence.

It was an ornate silver claw, clutching a shining green emerald, the exact color of his eyes.

She then realized, after all this time, she did love him. She liked him a lot. He was funny, goofed around, and always was there to help her when she was feeling down. He was always there for her. How could she have been so blind?

She nodded, unable to say anything, too moved to speak. Harry gently slid the jewel on her finger, and it tightened just enough to fit her engagement finger.

Harry then stood up and pulled Hermione into a kiss, and they pulled apart only to catch their breath.

"I love you Harry James Potter.." She whispered. Resting her head in the crook of his neck as her eyelids fluttered, slightly in shock.

"I love you most Hermione Jean Granger" He countered.

And they like lived happy after till like 3 mins later when death eaters avada'd them when they came in for their masters death and they died very badly and horribly after a month of pain and scream and everyone was there like pansy ron nev luna and the rest.

The End.


End file.
